Don't Want to Feel
by LuckyInLove
Summary: Elliot gets frustrated when Olivia won't open up. Will he stick around to help his best friend out of her downward spiral?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own them, I just write about them. Enjoy!

Elliot let out a groan, rubbed his tired eyes, and looked at his alarm clock. One-thirty. He clumsily reached for his phone, wanting nothing more than for the shrill ringing to stop.

"Hello?" he mumbled. He could hear her on the other end, sighing.

"Elliot," she said softly.

"Where are you?" he asked as gently as possible, giving up the comfort of his warm bed and standing, his feet hitting the cold wood floor beneath them.

"Sullivan's," she answered, again, her voice quiet.

"Stay put, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, already pulling on the jeans that he grabbed from his hamper. He fumbled down the stairs, slipping into his Nikes and pulling on his windbreaker as he locked his front door. The brisk spring air startled his senses, bringing Elliot out of his sleepy fog.

Elliot took a deep breath as he pulled up outside the bar. It wasn't a place he frequented, but he had sat there a time or two, beer in hand, thinking. It was a hole-in-the-wall Irish pub where he found comfort in the stale smell of Guinness and smoke. It was dark inside, only a few lonely souls remained at the bar. Elliot nodded toward the bartender, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and headed to the far side of the bar, wondering what awaited him.

There she was. Occupying the barstool furthest from the door. Furthest from the outside world. She was still in her work clothes, Elliot acknowledging that was not a good sign. Her arms were crossed on the oak bar, her chin resting on her forearms. Her brown hair fell into her eyes, but Elliot knew what lay beneath. Heavy eyelids and dark circles. It tore him up inside to see her like this. She wouldn't open up, he'd done everything he could think of. He'd crawled out of bed in the middle of the night more times than he cared to count the past few weeks. He didn't pry, he trusted his partner to come to him when she was ready. But he didn't know how much more he could take.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing sitting alone?" Elliot asked, hoping she'd take his cue and keep the mood light.

She looked up at him with glassy eyes. "Take me home," she whispered, a sense of pleading in her voice.

Elliot pulled out his wallet, certain Olivia hadn't settled her tab. He motioned the aging bartender over.

"You know, if I'm going to buy your drinks, the least you could do is invite me to come along and indulge with you," Elliot attempted humor once again.

Olivia said nothing and continued to stare at her empty mug.

"How much does she owe?" Elliot asked as the bartender approached.

He took a moment before answering, then gesturing to Olivia's badge perched on the bar top, he said, "It's on the house tonight."

"Hear that, Liv? Your winning personality and movie-star good looks finally got you somewhere," Elliot teased, tossing a twenty on the counter and smiling gratefully at the gentleman wiping the countertop.

"I think it was my dazzling smile," Olivia replied sarcastically. Elliot laughed, glad to have the old Olivia back, even if it was just for a second.

"Come on, we're going to get you up," Elliot said, wrapping his strong arms around Olivia, helping her stand. He released her from his grasp, only to watch her sway for a moment.

"Easy, now," he said, pulling off his jacket and wrapping it around Olivia's shoulders.

He wrapped one arm around Olivia's slender waist and held her steady with his other arm on her shoulder. She rubbed her forehead wearily and allowed herself to settle into Elliot's firm grasp as he guided her out of the bar.

Twenty minutes later, Elliot pulled up outside Olivia's apartment building, silently thanking the parking gods that there was a space right in front. He turned the ignition off and glanced at his partner slumped in the passenger seat. Her eyes were closed and her forehead was pressed against the cold glass, the window fogging with each passing breath. Elliot dreaded this part of the night. She looked so peaceful, whatever demons were haunting her during her waking hours disappeared when her eyes closed. He hated to wake her up, to remind her of how she had spent her night.

Elliot climbed out of the driver's side and shivered when he stepped out of the comfort of his warm car. He opened the passenger side door gently, not wanting to startle her awake.

"Olivia," he whispered. "Come on, we're home now."

He wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her limp body from the car. He'd made the mistake of trying to carry her in a few nights ago, and she'd practically knocked him unconscious with her purse. She was strong, he had to give her that. Even at her weakest, she was tough, never accepting pity from anyone.

Elliot guided Olivia into her building, onto the elevator, and up to the fifth floor. She was quiet tonight on the elevator ride. Some nights she apologized excessively, some nights she talked just fill the empty space in the elevator. But tonight, nothing. She kept her eyes shut as she leaned her head against the elevator wall, holding onto the railing with one hand and lacing her other hand through Elliot's.

When the elevator doors opened, Elliot began the routine he had perfected the past few weeks. Unlock all three locks on the door. Hang her purse on the coat rack next to the door. Kick himself for turning his back on Olivia and allowing her to collapse on the couch where he knew it'd be a pain to get her up again. Spending minutes coaxing her into her bedroom where he pulled sweats out of her middle dresser drawer and led her into the bathroom. It usually took her a while to change, and Elliot spent the time dragging a wastebasket to her bedside and setting her alarm for the next morning. He went into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of aspirin, pleased that he remembered to buy a new bottle the other night. He poured a glass of water from the faucet and headed back to the bedroom just as Olivia emerged, wearing a pair of old gray sweatpants and a Mets t-shirt.

"Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean you're allowed to make me wear this crap," she said, tugging at the shirt.

Elliot smiled and handed her the aspirin and water.

"Swallow," he instructed. She obeyed and handed the empty glass back to Elliot.

She headed into bed, tripping over the wastebasket and falling face first into her pillow.

"At least it was a soft landing," Elliot said, pulling the covers up to Olivia's chin. He smiled at her, wished her goodnight, and turned to leave the room.

"Elliot," she groaned.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning around.

"The alarm?"

"Already set it. Get some sleep."

"Thank you," she whispered, and instantly, her breathing became heavy. Elliot knew that once her head hit the pillow, she'd be out.

He leaned his body against the door frame, watching her sleep. Her comforter rose and fell with each breath. He hoped that whatever was bothering her didn't invade her dreams. The first time she had called him and asked him to pick her up after a night of drinking, he chalked it up to a bad day at work. Even the second and third times. But now, he was genuinely concerned. He'd never seen her like this. He'd been racking his brain for days, trying to pinpoint the source of her problems. Every time he tried to bring it up, she begged him to drop it. Blamed it on stress. But he knew this wasn't just Olivia stressed. This was something deeper, and he prayed every night that she would find the strength to talk to him. He was losing his partner, and it scared him. He'd tried everything he and Kathy used to try on the kids. Bribery, trickery, honesty. Nothing was working. The only thing left was tough love.

**You like? Something different than last time, let me know what you think please! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy!**

Elliot stepped back out into the chilly night. He climbed into his car and drove the familiar route to the station, hoping to catch a few hours' sleep in the crib. When he arrived at the station, Elliot absentmindedly waved his badge at the desk sergeant before catching the elevator upstairs. He hung his coat on the back of his chair and scribbled a note for John, knowing he'd be the first to arrive in the morning.

Sleep came easier that night for some reason. He'd spent night after night, lying in bed, worrying about his partner. Worried that he, somehow, could be to blame for her recent change in behavior. Worried that, hard as though he may try, he wouldn't be able to fix her this time. But tonight, he pushed all those thoughts out of his mind and finally caved in to exhaustion.

"Rise and shine, Detective."

Elliot rolled over only to find Munch's face inches from his own.

"No wonder you're divorced," Elliot grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting at the sunlight shining through the precinct windows.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Munch asked, feigning offense.

"If I had to wake up to your face every morning, I'd leave you, too," Elliot said as he climbed out of the uncomfortable bed.

Elliot stretched his arms above his head and yawned as he headed toward the locker room.

"Everything okay with you?" Munch asked, his voice sincere.

Elliot stopped, but didn't turn to face his friend.

"Yeah, fine," he replied.

"Look, Cragen knows you've been sleeping up here. Just thought you might want to know."

Elliot stopped in his tracks.

"How'd he find out?" Elliot asked, looking over his shoulder at Munch.

"Uh, he's a detective?" Munch said, rolling his eyes.

Elliot nodded, mumbled thanks, and headed into the locker room. He let the hot water run down his body. He made the decision, with his eyes closed, rubbing the kinks out of his neck, that he wouldn't let Olivia take advantage of their relationship anymore. He wasn't going to sacrifice his life, his sleep, for his partner when she wouldn't give him straight answers.

He emerged from the locker room wearing his stand-by suit and headed downstairs for coffee. Just as he reached the bottom stair, Cragen exited his office. Elliot prepared himself for the worst. He'd been testing his captain's patience for quite awhile, and his recent behavior didn't help his cause.

"Elliot, can we talk?" he asked, his gentle voice surprising the detective.

"Sure, Cap," Elliot said, filling his mug and placing the coffee pot down.

Munch raised his eyebrows as Elliot passed, but Elliot just shrugged, unsure of what he was walking into.

"Have a seat," Cragen said as he closed the door behind them.

Elliot sat silently, sipping his coffee. He felt like he was back in the principal's office at his junior high. He looked up expectantly into Cragen's eyes.

"How you doing, Elliot?" Cragen asked, his eyes showing concern for his favorite detective.

"I'd be better if I had a decent cup of coffee," Elliot said, smiling.

"You know if there was something going on with you, you could talk to me," he said.

Elliot was getting used to this kind of talk from Cragen. Ever since Kathy left, he'd kept a careful eye on Elliot, making sure he knew he had the support of everyone around him. And to be honest, Elliot never got tired of hearing Cragen say these words. He found comfort in knowing that he could talk to him. But this time, it wasn't his place.

"I'm fine, Cap, I just haven't been sleeping well at home," he said, avoiding Cragen's eyes. Elliot wasn't lying, he just wasn't telling the whole truth. He hoped he'd said enough to satisfy Cragen.

"If you need - " Elliot cut him off before he could finish.

"I know," he said, a slight smile creeping over his face, "and thanks."

The men nodded in understanding and Elliot stood to leave.

"I have to run if I'm going to get to court on time, Casey will have my ass if her star witness is late," Elliot retreated to the door.

"Hang on, Detective," Cragen said, pulling out his wallet. He stuck a five out to Elliot, who eyed it skeptically.

"What's this for?" he said, taking the money before Cragen changed his mind.

"I made the coffee, and you deserve a decent cup this morning."

"Damn right I do," Elliot laughed as he left Cragen's office.

Elliot was headed up the courthouse steps with a steaming cup of coffee in hand when his phone rang, slowing him down even more.

"Aahhh, damn it," he grumbled, searching his pocket for the phone.

"Stabler," he answered without checking the caller ID.

"Elliot, it's me," Olivia sounded quiet on the other end. "I feel like shit, tell Cragen I'm running late?"

"Can't, I'm already running late to court. Call him yourself, Olivia," he said, surprised at the tone of his own voice. He wasn't going to keep cleaning up her messes, it was time she accepted responsibility for whatever was going on with her.

"Oh, yeah, sure, umm, see you later, then," she sounded so defeated.

"Bye," Elliot said, flipping his phone shut. The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach made him feel like the worst friend in the world. He just didn't know what else to do.

**Thanks for the reviews so far. Keep them coming please! **


	3. Chapter 3

After a long day in court, Elliot headed back to the station to catch up on some paperwork. The other detectives were out working a case so things were unusually quiet. Finishing quicker than he had thought, Elliot was happy to leave at a decent hour. He'd still be able to run to the store and buy the twins their cereal before he picked them up for the weekend.

He pulled into his driveway and saw the familiar figure sitting on his front stoop. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the grocery bags and climbed out of his car. He didn't say anything as he set the bags on the sidewalk and leaned against the railing on his steps. He crossed his strong arms, avoiding Olivia's eyes. He could tell she was trying hard to read him.

"Peace offering," she said, extending her arm to Elliot.

"You could've let yourself in," he said, not meeting her eyes. He rested his leg on the third step and leaned on his elbow, staring at the concrete step beneath him.

"I wasn't just going to let myself in. You're mad," she said, matter-of-factly.

"I'm not mad," he said, looking into her huge brown eyes for the first time. He could tell she was sorry. They were begging, pleading with him for forgiveness.

He sighed and took the white paper bag from her outstretched hand and peeked inside.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Number four," she said with a small smile. "One and three were in the opposite direction, two was closed."

Elliot couldn't help but smile at his best friend. They were bored one day and made a list of their top ten favorite restaurants. They didn't even need to say the names anymore, they simply went by the number system. She had his memorized and he had hers memorized.

"I'm actually in the mood for six - "

"But I got you a blondie, too," she interrupted him, hoping to find any sign of forgiveness in her partner.

"Did you now?" he smiled at her. "Come on, it's getting cold," he said, picking up the groceries and heading up the steps.

Olivia unpacked Elliot's dinner while he put away the groceries. They sat at the kitchen table, Elliot silently eating his sandwich, Olivia eating her own brownie. She looked up at him, and he could see the sadness on her face. Her eyes were dark, the familiar spark had died out.

"Thank you for last night," she finally broke the silence.

"You're welcome," he said, continuing to eat his dinner.

"You _are _mad," she said, her tone defensive.

"I'm not, Olivia. God damn it, I'm just tired. I haven't been getting a lot sleep lately," he said, not so subtly reminding her that it was indeed her fault he was in such a sour mood.

"Jesus, Elliot, it's always about you, isn't it?" she demanded, standing up and backing away from the table.

"This isn't about me and you know it. You're the one spending every spare minute trying to forget something you won't talk about. You're not going to find the answer at the bottom of a shot glass, Olivia," he said sternly.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, fidgeting with her hands.

"You're turning into your mother," Elliot said, meeting her gaze. The moment the words slipped from his lips, he regretted them. It was what he used to say to Kathy in the middle of a heated argument. It was his way of making up with her, he had all the respect in the world for Kathy's mother, there was no greater compliment. But he'd gotten lost in the moment and uttered the words that made Olivia Benson's blood boil.

She was stung, he could see that. She swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure and fighting off the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. Elliot felt a knot forming in his stomach and he knew he had crossed a line. He wished he could take back what he had just said, he might have just caused the most devastating blow to their relationship.

Finally, Olivia spoke softly.

"Wow," was all she could muster. She shook her head angrily and stormed for the door.

"Liv!" Elliot shouted after her. He had to fix this, fix whatever had made Olivia start to drink in the first place. "OLIVIA!"

"Don't," she said, waving off his attempts at reconciliation. "Don't act like you didn't mean anything by that, Elliot."

She turned to face him when she said his name. He could see the tears streaming down her face. He had made her cry. He had never made his best friend, his only real friend lately, cry. He rose from the table, his entire body shaking. From what, he didn't know – perhaps from the fear that he had just ruined the one good thing in his life.

"I'm leaving, don't even _try_ to come after me, I swear to God I will shoot you and get off on justifiable," she said, turning around and heading for the door once more.

"Go ahead, walk away. You're starting to get the hang of it," he challenged her.

She stopped in her tracks.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? What am I walking away from? The asshole standing in front of me? The best friend I thought I had for eight years?" she yelled angrily, tears still sliding down her cheeks. Her face was red with rage now and her veins pulsed with anger.

"How about your partner? How about Dean? What the hell, how about any guy you've ever attempted to date?"

"You have no right to bring Dean into this. He broke up with me and it's none of your fucking business." Olivia stood still, glaring at Elliot. Her eyes challenging his. Then she uttered the words that would make his blood boil.

"No wonder Kathy left you. I'm finding it surprisingly easy to want to walk away from you right now and never speak to you again," she said, grabbing her purse and coat from the couch and stalking out the door.

Elliot stood motionless, in disbelief that she said that to him. He was really in disbelief about their entire argument. They had both said things they didn't mean. He was angry at himself for pushing Olivia's buttons when he knew he should have backed off.

His eyes tore across the room looking for something, anything, to break. When he found nothing suitable for smashing, he headed straight for the bathroom. He needed to cool off. He stood over the sink, splashing cold water on his face until he was no longer steaming. Clenching his fists on the countertop, he stared at himself in the mirror. He hated the man he saw looking back at him. Hell, he barely recognized the man staring back at him. He'd changed, physically changed, so much since Kathy left. What he saw now was the remains of the old Elliot Stabler. He saw a man with dark circles and bags under his eyes. The hairline that seemed to be receding at an alarming rate. Wrinkles in his forehead he hadn't noticed until tonight.

He couldn't look at that man anymore. Before he could stop himself, he threw his balled fist at the mirror, shattering the glass. The pain in his hand only existed to mask the pain he was feeling inside, it wasn't going to make it disappear forever. He immediately regretted it, but deep down he knew, sometimes you've got to break something.

**Thanks for all the reviews so far! I know some of you are having a hard time with Elliot and Olivia fighting, but I promise, things will get better. They really can't get any worse for our two favorite detectives, right? Please let me know what you think. I really appreciate it! Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Still don't own them.**

Elliot was the last to arrive Friday morning at the precinct. He took a seat at his desk and immediately busied himself with a file. He hadn't slept much the night before. He kept replaying the argument over and over in his mind, desperately wishing he could take back the hurtful things he had said. That, combined with the throbbing of his right hand, made for a restless night's sleep. When he finally climbed out of bed in the morning, he fully examined the damage he had done to his bathroom mirror with his now swollen and bruised hand.

"Rough night?" Fin asked, startling Elliot out of his trance. He instinctively looked across his desk at Olivia. She sat there, her head buried in a file, avoiding Elliot's gaze. She looked as bad he felt.

Turning his gaze back to Fin, Elliot forced a weak smile.

"Uh, no, just tired, I guess," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"Well, you guys make quite the pair," Fin smiled, nodding toward Olivia. She looked up at Elliot and he could see effects their fight had on her. Bloodshot eyes and a tired frown.

Elliot and Olivia both turned back to their folders, pretending to be engrossed with the information on the pages. But Elliot knew Olivia wasn't focused either. It was going to be a long day if things continued on like this. After lunch, Cragen called Elliot and Olivia into his office. They had sat across from each other all morning and had still not spoken. They simply stood up and followed their captain into his office. Once inside, they stood as far apart from each other as is possible in the cramped office.

"Munch and Fin are onto something with the Williams case. I need you two to pull – " Cragen stopped mid-sentence when he realized neither one of his detectives was paying attention to him. He grew frustrated quickly.

"What the hell is going on with you two? You haven't said a word to each other all day," he said, his tone bordering on harsh.

Elliot looked over at Olivia, who was looking at her feet. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.

"Elliot, what happened?" Cragen asked, motioning to his bruised hand.

"Nothing, it's nothing," he mumbled, unable to look his captain in the eye.

"Someone better start explaining. And soon," he demanded, anger evident in his voice. Olivia finally brought her eyes up to meet Cragen's but she still said nothing.

Elliot spoke up, his voice quiet.

"I had a fight with Kathy and took it out on Olivia. She was just trying to talk to me, and I blew up," he felt heat creeping up his neck. He was a terrible liar, and his captain knew it. But for some reason, he seemed to be buying this.

"And this," Elliot said, raising his right hand, "I was letting off a little steam in the garage. Guess I got carried away with the punching bag, hit the tool bench on accident."

Olivia still hadn't looked in Elliot's direction. As he stood here, feeding Cragen these lies, he couldn't believe he was still covering for Olivia. He had sworn to himself he was done fixing her mess-ups. But the guilt of last night was eating away at him and he had to do something to redeem himself. He didn't care if Olivia didn't forgive him right away, he just wanted her to look at him. Or say something. Anything.

Cragen stood up from behind his desk and walked around to stand directly in front of Elliot. He examined Elliot's face intently, then moved his gaze to his hand. Finally, he turned to face Olivia.

"Look," he said sternly, "first you're going to get your hand looked at. Don't even think about arguing because I'm not in the mood." He glared at Elliot without flinching. "Second, you need to figure out this nonsense."

"Yes, sir," Elliot replied meekly.

"Olivia, you're going with him. Then you're both coming straight back here. It's the end of first quarter and you're both going to help with the paperwork. You'll have a nice long weekend together to fix this. Now get out of here," he said, opening the door for them.

Olivia groaned as she walked out. All the detectives hated filling out quarter-end paperwork. Captain usually chose whoever was on his shit-list at the time. Luckily, both detectives had managed to avoid it last quarter.

Elliot hung back for a moment. He cleared his throat, waiting for Cragen to acknowledge him.

"I thought I said you could talk to me," Cragen looked up his detective with sympathetic eyes. He had a soft spot for Elliot and what he was going through.

"Look, I fixed things with Kathy, that's not what I need to talk to you about," he said. "I have the kids this weekend, and they have so much planned, I can't… I have to be with them this weekend," he pleaded with Cragen.

It was the truth. If anything in the world could raise Elliot's spirits, it was his kids. They meant the world to him, and Cragen knew that. He could see the pain on Elliot's face.

"Fine, but Elliot, you gotta fix this thing with Olivia. It's not like her to be like this," Cragen said, his voice soft now.

"I know, Cap, I'm trying," he said, backing toward the door. "And thanks."

"Get your hand looked at," Cragen urged.

Elliot smiled and left the office. Olivia stood at his desk, waiting. She handed Elliot his coat without saying a word and they left the office together. Silence followed them down the hall, in the elevator, out the front door of the precinct and to the parking lot.

"I'm taking my car, heading home after this," Elliot said, continuing on to his car.

"Fine, meet you at St. Catherine's," Olivia said curtly.

Before Elliot had a chance to let his mind wander to his current predicament, his phone rang. Kathy. Damn it, he thought to himself, instantly frustrated.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hi, Elliot, have a minute?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, sure."

"I just wanted to tell you, I think Lizzie's coming down with a cold. Don't let her tell you that she's not, she's been sniffling and coughing, maybe try to take it easy this weekend," Kathy said.

Elliot sighed in relief, glad she hadn't tried to reschedule his weekend.

"Yeah, of course, I'll keep an eye on her," he said, navigating a left-hand turn.

"And Maureen is picking them up here after she gets off work. She wants to hang with you guys tonight."

Elliot smiled. He'd take three out of the four of them anytime.

"Sounds good," he said, impatiently waiting for the light to turn green.

"Okay, then," Kathy said, trying to fill the awkward silence between the two.

"Hey, Kath? Can I talk to you about something?" he asked, hoping she could lend some insight into his problem.

"Sure, what is it?"

"It's Olivia," he paused, and when he didn't hear Kathy sigh or groan in disgust, he continued. "There's something going on with her. She's been drinking a lot, calling me in the middle of the night to come pick her up from these dive bars. She won't talk to me, changes the subject every time I bring it up. Last night we fought. Big time. Both said some terrible things. Oh, God, Kathy, I screwed up. Told her she was turning into her mother."

Elliot could hear Kathy stifle a laugh.

"It's not funny, she won't even look at me, much less talk to me. Kath, she said she could see why you left me," Elliot's voice trailed off. He needed help and he had no one to turn to. He couldn't go to Cragen with this personal stuff. He found it ironic that it was so easy to talk to Kathy about the one thorn in their relationship. If she sensed the awkwardness, she didn't let on.

"El, look – " Kathy began, but Elliot cut her off.

"Hey, I'm okay with it. I mean, I'm not okay with it, but that's not what this is about. I just…I need to know how to fix this with her. I screwed up with you and I have to accept that. But it's not too late with her, Kathy, tell me what to do," Elliot begged his ex-wife, throwing any pride he had left out the window.

His voice was wavering ever so slightly, and Kathy could tell he was in deep. He would never ask this of her if things weren't dire. She'd hurt him. Betrayed his trust. She needed to help him get back some semblance of a life, a life she took away from him the day she walked out the door.

"She really means a lot to you, El?" she said it more as a fact, not so much as a question.

"She's all I have left," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She trusts you, Elliot. She trusts you enough to know that you'll help her when she's in trouble. Whatever this is, she probably just wants reassurance that you're not going to judge her when she tells you. She's drinking, so ask yourself why. So she can work up the courage to tell you? To forget something? She's testing you, El. Calling you, waiting for you to break your promise that you'll protect her," she paused before continuing. Elliot concentrated hard on the road, but even harder on Kathy's advice.

"Apologize. Tell her you're sorry," she said.

"I've tried," Elliot insisted.

"Make her listen to you. Make her hear you. Then tell her you're there for her. Make sure she knows she can come to you. And Elliot, whatever this is, don't get angry, or frustrated, or any of the things you've been lately. Be her best friend, it sounds like she needs you. And just listen. Whatever this is, you guys will get past it," she sounded confident enough that Elliot believed her.

He let her words sink in before he spoke.

"Thanks," he replied, sincerity in his voice.

**Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! Please keep them coming! They make me want to update faster!**


	5. Chapter 5

Elliot hung up the phone as he pulled into the parking garage. Olivia was leaning against her sedan, waiting. Elliot climbed out, unsure of what to do next. Now was not really the appropriate time or place for the conversation they needed to have. He simply smiled at her and they walked inside.

"You don't have stay, you know," Elliot said as they headed to the reception desk.

She just shrugged and Elliot didn't push any further. The nurse working reception greeted the two detectives warmly.

"What can I do for you today, Detectives?" she smiled kindly at the familiar faces.

Elliot simply smiled and raised his hand. It didn't hurt too badly, but it was pretty banged up. He had a cut on his knuckle, his middle and ring fingers were swollen beyond recognition, and his whole hand had turned to alarming shades of black, blue and green.

"Ooh, injured in the line of duty, huh?" the nurse said, examining Elliot's hand. "Here, fill these out," she said, handing him a clipboard and pen, "and I'll see what I can do to get you in and out of here in a jiffy," she winked at him as he and Olivia went to sit in the waiting room.

Elliot fumbled mercilessly with the pen and clipboard before Olivia grew impatient and grabbed it from his hands. He smiled gratefully. She just rolled her eyes and pursed her lips as she filled in Elliot's personal information. It was disturbing, really, how much she really knew about him. That he had his appendix out when he was eleven, his tonsils out last year, he was nearsighted in his left eye and farsighted in his right. He was allergic to penicillin and sulfur. And he hated needles. How the man had tattoos she'll never understand. But she sat silently, filling out his paperwork while he took in the people around the waiting room. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. She was hesitating on a certain question, he just couldn't tell which one.

"Um, who do you, uh, who do you put for your emergency contact?" she asked, knowing full well his answer would be her. But he could very easily change his mind and put Kathy. Attempting to show no hard feelings toward his partner, he shrugged.

"You," he answered simply. She nodded and began filling in her own personal information.

A different nurse Elliot didn't recognize approached him.

"Detective Stabler?" she asked.

"That's me," he said, standing. He peered down at Olivia, who was still scribbling away furiously.

"Here, give me your insurance card, I'll finish this," she said. Elliot fished the card out of his wallet and followed the nurse into a small curtain area.

"Go ahead and have a seat, Detective," she said, gesturing to the bed.

"Please, it's Elliot," he gave the nurse a small smile.

"Alright, Elliot, I have to get the boring stuff out of the way here," she said, pulling out a thermometer.

She continued to chat as she stuck the thermometer in Elliot's ear.

"How do you know Nurse Kim?" she asked, writing on Elliot's chart.

"She seems to be around a lot when we get called in here for cases," he said, dangling his feet back and forth. Hospitals always made him a little uncomfortable when he was a patient.

"Let's take a look at this hand," she said, unbuttoning Elliot's shirt cuff and rolling up his sleeve. "Nice tattoo," she said jokingly, but smiled at Elliot.

"I was young and stupid and in the Marines," he said as if that explained everything.

"What department are you in, Detective?" she asked as she held Elliot's hand gently in her own. He was startled at how comforting it felt to have such intimate physical contact with another woman. It made him miss Kathy's soft touch.

"Ouch," he winced in pain and laughed at himself for thinking this felt good. "Manhattan Special Victims," Elliot responded to her question, not taking his eyes off his hand for a second.

"Well, I really admire and respect that. It must be really difficult sometimes. This is going to hurt a little," she said, putting pressure on the back of Elliot's hand. He grimaced, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin his good reputation with this nurse.

"Your work should be commended," she continued. Elliot smiled, he never got tired of hearing people express their appreciation for his job. It made it all seem worthwhile.

"And yours, too," he said, equally thankful for the nurse's help.

Elliot was surprised at what he saw almost three hours later as he left the emergency room. His partner fast asleep in the waiting room, her knees pulled close to her chest, her heading resting against the wall behind her. She looked so peaceful, innocent even, he hated to wake her. He knew she hadn't been sleeping and it tore him up to see her finally catch sleep in the most uncomfortable position in the most sterile environment. He hated it even more that he had to be the one to wake her up. He knew he was the last person she wanted to wake up to.

Letting out a long, slow breath, he collapsed into the chair next to her, exhausted himself. He leaned his head against the cold, hard wall behind him. He rolled his head so he was facing Olivia.

"Livia," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey, wake up."

She groaned at the sound of Elliot's voice.

"What'd the doctor say?" she asked groggily, slowly reaching behind her in an attempt to rub the kinks out of her neck.

"I'm fine," he said, standing up and extending his hand to help her out her hard plastic chair.

She ignored the gesture and averted her attention to the hand Elliot let hang at his side.

"Doesn't look fine," she mumbled, climbing to her feet. Her body ached from sleeping in the uncomfortable chair.

"Couple of broken fingers, lot of bruises and swelling. It's not as bad as it looks, really," he said, avoiding her eyes.

She mumbled something under her breath that Elliot chose to ignore. They walked silently back to their respective cars, lingering in awkwardness. Olivia broke first.

"Home?" she asked, curious as to how he wormed his way out of a weekend's worth of paperwork.

"Yeah, I have the kids," he said as a smile crept across his face.

"Good, it's good you're spending time with them," she said, turning to unlock her car.

"See you Monday, Liv," Elliot called to her as she climbed into her car.

Her only response was a weak smile.

Elliot pulled into his driveway, happy to see Maureen's beat up Civic parked out front. He grabbed the bag from the drugstore and hurried inside. The smell of cheese and garlic greeted Elliot as he opened the front door. He couldn't suppress a smile when he saw his oldest daughter serving pizza to her younger brother and sister.

"Dad!' Lizzie cried, running to Elliot, flinging her arms around his middle.

He bent down and inhaled the scent of her shampoo, kissing her softly on the top of her head. He'd gotten so used to having so many girls around, he forgot how much he missed. The sweet smell of shampoo and body lotion. Hairspray residue on the bathroom mirrors. A never ending supply of chocolate. The phone constantly ringing off the hook and teen magazines covering every surface of their bedrooms. One whiff of Lizzie's shampoo brought back so many memories. He held onto her tightly, as if hugging her for the last time.

"Spread the love, would ya?" Maureen asked, wrapping an arm around her father's shoulder.

He released one arm from Lizzie and brushed Maureen's long blond bangs from her face and kissed her gently on the forehead. He looked at the table to see Dickie inhaling his pizza in silence. He was probably glad to get a reprieve from the girls.

"We were starving, couldn't wait any longer," Maureen explained as they walked to the kitchen table.

Elliot sat at the table, silently cherishing the moment. His kids were all smiling. He couldn't help but think about what he and Kathy had put them through the past few years. He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind, though. They were here with him now, and he was grateful for that. He was also satisfied knowing that they were strong and were able to come away from the divorce relatively unscathed. Elliot's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his daughter's voice.

"Dad! What happened to your hand?" Lizzie asked, her voice full of worry and concern.

He looked at his daughter, her bottom lip quivered and her chin trembled. He suddenly remembered the bloody mess and broken glass in the bathroom. How would he explain this one?

**Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are great! Don't worry, I still have good things in store for our favorite detectives. As always, read and review please! Enjoy!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Aw, cool, Dad got in a fight!" Dickie squealed excitedly.

"Dickie," Elliot said sternly, glaring at his son, "Dad did not get into a fight."

Elliot looked at his daughters. Maureen just shook her head and rolled her eyes. Lizzie, on the other hand, had tucked her chin into her chest, her eyes trained on the greasy napkin in her lap. Of all his kids, Elliot knew that his line of work had the biggest effect on Lizzie. He'd overheard her prayers before bed one night, asking God to protect her dad from the mean guys so he could come home every night and protect her.

"Lizzie," he said softly, but she didn't look up. "Elizabeth," he reached his hand out and gently touched her arm. She looked up at him, big blue eyes swimming with tears.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, as she quietly climbed out of her chair and let her father pull her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly.

"I promise, I didn't get into a fight," he said, shooting Dickie a look over the top of Lizzie's head. "This," he said holding up his injured hand "is what happens when you eat Uncle Don's last Twizzler."

He lifted Lizzie's chin so her eyes met his. He knew they had reached a silent understanding. She smiled, wiped her tears, and gave her dad a kiss on the nose. She used to tease him, telling him she tried to kiss him on the lips, the forehead, the cheek, but his nose just got in the way. He laughed at her business sense when she said she was just going to cut out the middle man and aim for his big nose every time.

"Mom says Lizzie isn't feeling too hot, how about we just stay in and play Nintendo?" Elliot asked, laughing at twins' reactions. No matter how many new video games came out, they always loved the original Nintendo the best. Super Mario Three, in fact.

"I'll set it up!" Dickie exclaimed as he jumped out of his seat.

Lizzie just stood next to her dad, her arms folded across her chest, her bottom lip stuck out.

"Better stick that lip in or Maureen will step on it with her big feet," Elliot teased, pulling his daughter in close to him.

"Odds are better that dad will knock into with his nose," Maureen replied sarcastically as she began clearing the dinner table.

Elliot turned his eyes back to his youngest daughter. She let out a little sniffle and he smiled at her stubbornness. She was just like him, never backing down from a fight, not even with her dad or her brother.

"I'm not sick," she said matter-of-factly.

"I didn't say you were sick," Elliot said, gently wiping pizza crumbs off her chin. Elliot knew he was not going to win this fight, and he was too tired to argue with the beautiful little girl in front of him.

"Go put your jammies on, you better hurry or else Dickie will get the good controller," he said, turning her around and giving her a push up the stairs.

Elliot watched as Maureen continued to clean up the kitchen.

"Let me help," he said, carrying the nearly empty pizza box to the counter.

"It's fine, I'm almost done," she said, avoiding her dad's gaze. "Go change."

Elliot sighed but did as he was told. He reemerged in a pair of flannel pants and an old Mets shirt. The kitchen was spotless and the twins were planted in front of the TV, Lizzie successfully going into Flower Power mode. Maureen was curled up on the couch, textbook in hand. He smiled when she took off her reading glasses, and setting her book aside, made room for her dad on the couch.

She reminded him so much of her mother. No matter what the job threw at Elliot, Kathy always forgave his bad mood and lame excuses. She welcomed him with open arms, trying to make him forget the horrors he'd seen all day. Maureen was doing the same. She untucked the quilt from beneath her feet and covered Elliot's lap with it. She leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped his left arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He closed his eyes and listened to the familiar Mario music, smiling at the kids, playfully trash talking to each other. His eyes shot open when he felt something cold on his hand. He looked down, Maureen had placed a bag of frozen green beans on his swollen hand. He smiled at her, gently kissing the top of her head.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, so as not to let her younger brother and sister hear. She carefully, gently, adjusted the vegetables on his splinted fingers.

"I'm fine, promise. Broke a couple fingers," he said, trying to reassure her.

"Look, I told the twins you were remodeling the bathroom and not to go in there, but you better clean it up before one of them forgets and walks in there in the middle of the night," she said, her voice quiet, but her tone almost angry.

"Thanks," he whispered, squeezing his arm tight around her. He'd forgotten how grown up she'd become. He couldn't get anything past her anymore.

"You can tell me if you want, you know," she said, letting her dad hold her tight. She closed her eyes and Elliot smiled at his daughter, shaking his head at her last comment. She might have grown up, but he wasn't ready to share with her his problems, his burdens. But he appreciated the gesture more than she would ever know.

Elliot spent the rest of the weekend doting over his kids. Running Dickie to baseball practice, taking Lizzie for ice cream, getting them dressed for church and Sunday school and helping with homework. He had never truly appreciated the difficulties of being a single parent until he and Kathy split. You literally have to put your life on hold, set aside your own wants and needs. It was all about sacrifice, something he was slowly realizing Kathy was all too familiar with.

Elliot woke up exhausted Monday morning, dreading the day ahead of him. He showered, shaved, and dressed absentmindedly, letting his mind wander to Olivia. As he stood in front of the mirror, his broken fingers prohibiting him from tying his tie, he wondered if she'd be ready to open up. If he'd be ready to apologize. If not, he wondered, how long could their relationship survive? Frustrated, he gave up on his tie and let it hang loose around his neck. He grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door, less than enthusiastic about going into work today.

**I know it's short, but the good stuff is on it's way! Please read, review, and enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7

Elliot rushed into the station, still mumbling obscenities under his breath about traffic. Olivia smiled to herself, enjoying Elliot's usual Monday morning routine. She had tried for years, and failed miserably, to get him to leave earlier on Mondays to avoid traffic during his commute. He never listened, always swore it was a "one-time thing." He had barely taken his jacket off when Cragen appeared at their desks, file in hand.

"Elliot, you're late," Cragen started, and continued without giving his detective the chance to explain himself. "Munch and Fin are tied up re-canvassing the Williams apartment building. Right now, this is the only lead we've got," he explained, handing the folder to Olivia. "I need you two to sit on his apartment until he shows up, bring him in for questioning. Elliot, your tie," he said, as he walked back into his office.

Elliot just shook his head at Olivia's disapproving glance and followed Cragen into his office.

"Cap?" he looked at him, holding up his useless hand. "I can't," he said, embarrassment creeping onto his face.

Cragen studied the face of his detective, and smiled to himself at his helplessness. He walked over to him and began to tie the knot, feeling like a proud dad helping his son.

"Everything okay with you?" he asked out of genuine concern.

"Yeah, thanks," Elliot replied with a smile.

"And…there you go," Cragen stepped back to admire his work. "Get out of here," he said, ushering Elliot out the door.

Elliot hustled out of the office, grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, yelling thanks over his shoulder as he ran out of the bullpen. He emerged into the bright sunlight outside to see Olivia leaning against their squad car, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She tossed Elliot the keys and climbed in the passenger side.

Elliot started the ignition and immediately rolled down the window, the car already stuffy from the warm spring sunshine. He knew he was in for a long day when Olivia immediately shifted in her seat to stare out the window. He turned the radio on to fill the awkward silence. They drove a few blocks before Olivia finally spoke.

"Can we stop for coffee?" she asked timidly, almost like a young child asking her father to stop for ice cream.

"Yeah, sure," Elliot said, switching lanes expertly in time to stop at one of their favorite coffee shops.

"Want anything?" Olivia asked, her hand already on the door handle.

"The usual, I guess," Elliot flashed a smile of thanks.

It went unnoticed, however. She simply nodded and climbed out of the blue sedan. Elliot leaned back into his seat and groaned. He would think that after spending so much of his life around women, he'd have a better sense of how to deal with them. But not this time.

Fifteen minutes later, they were parked a few houses down from the brownstone where their suspect lived. After knocking at his door and receiving no answer, they retreated back to their car to wait.

They sipped their coffee in silence, the only sound coming from Olivia rummaging through the paper bag from the coffee shop.

"Hungry?" she asked, offering the top half of her bagel to Elliot.

"Sure, thanks," he said, graciously accepting what he hoped was a peace offering.

As he stared out the window at the quiet street, he thought about what Kathy had told him the other day. He had to make her listen. Now was as good of a time as any. They were trapped in a squad car on assignment, she couldn't get away easily. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't know if he actually wanted to know what was going on with his partner. She would tell him if there was something he needed to know, right? Elliot shook those thoughts out of his mind and took a deep breath, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

"Olivia?" he asked quietly, and he waited for her to look up before he continued.

"Hmm?" she asked mindlessly spreading cream cheese on her bagel.

Elliot cleared his throat and went on.

"I'm sorry. I crossed a line that night, and I'm so sorry," he bowed his head, unwilling to see the expression on her face. He didn't want to make things worse, but for some reason, he thought he might.

"Elliot," she sighed, craning her neck to meet his eyes that were staring at the emergency brake that separated them.

"No, let me finish please. Hear me out," he looked at her for approval, and she nodded, setting her bagel on the dashboard, settling in for one of Elliot's serious talks.

"I was tired, frustrated. I'm worried about you," he said, noticing Olivia's eyes pooling with tears. But he went on. "I said terrible things, I know that. I pushed too hard, and I didn't realize it then, but I do now. I know that if I gave you space, you'd come to me eventually. If you wanted to talk, that is. And if you don't, that's fine."

He paused for a moment, he knew he was rambling, but these were all things that needed to be said, and the quicker the better.

"No, actually, that's not fine. Olivia, something's going on with you, and we're best friends, and if you can't tell me, I'm worried you won't tell anyone else, either. I just want to tell you that I'm here. I can be a good listener, I promise," he finished, his hands trembling. There, he'd said what he needed to say.

He turned his gaze from the windshield to Olivia's face, surprised to see that she wasn't able to hold back her tears. He reached across the seat and with his thumb wiped her tears. She shook her head and pushed Elliot's hand away.

"Liv, it's okay," he said, not knowing what to do. He was terrible with crying women. He found in most cases, it was best to let them cry and open up when they were ready. So he pulled his hand back and watched her while she struggled to contain her emotions.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed between sniffles. "I said some awful things to you. God, I can't believe I was such a bitch."

Elliot smiled, satisfied that their relationship was headed back in the right direction. They were talking, attempting to work out their problems. They were quiet for a few minutes, Elliot sipped his coffee and finished off his bagel. Olivia, however, continued to wipe her tears as she stared out her open window, breathing in the refreshing spring air.

"Dean broke up with me, um, about four weeks ago," Olivia started, her voice quiet. Elliot could tell this was hard for her and he kept his mouth shut and nodded for her to continue.

"It was that night we worked late, you dropped me off at my place. Remember, it was the Perkins girl?" Elliot nodded, remembering that day well. Their strength and knowledge had been questioned on that case, they were both drained. Elliot dropped her off, and they looked at each other in his car, perhaps for a moment too long, but they had a mutual understanding. Olivia just knew that Elliot was thinking about his girls, and Elliot knew Olivia was thinking about herself as a young girl. They needed each other in that moment. Elliot remembered Olivia's forced smile as she left him at the curb, and he watched her walk away, shoulders hunched, wishing there was more he could do to comfort her. But there was nothing he could do, and he knew it, he just drove away.

It took him a minute to find his voice, but he finally managed, "Yeah, it was a rough case."

"Anyway, I walked into my lobby and Dean was there. He was so mad, he said…" she shook her head angrily. "No, I'm not even going to tell you what he said, but he ended it."

She stopped, and Elliot was unsure if she was finished. He laced the fingers of his good hand through hers, squeezing her hand gently. Just as he was about to open his mouth to offer some semblance of comfort, she continued.

"Three weeks before that, I found out I was pregnant," she said, her bottom lip quivering.

**Thanks for all the reviews so far, you guys are great! You know the drill, read, review and enjoy! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

Olivia turned her eyes away from Elliot. She couldn't bear to see the look on his face. Her gaze turned to the man on the sidewalk, walking only feet away from their car.

"Shit, Elliot, it's him," she exclaimed, and they both casually stepped out of the car.

The man jerked his head around at the sound of their doors slamming, and he took off running. Olivia and Elliot followed suit, Elliot catching the man in no time, shoving him into telephone pole to subdue him.

"Why you running?" Elliot asked, attempting to catch his breath.

"My partner's an old man, he gets mad when he has chase scum like you down the street," Olivia said, getting into the man's face. She leaned in close, not afraid to intimidate the lowlife standing inches from her face. "You don't want to make my partner mad."

Elliot jerked the man up straight and led him back to their squad car.

"Let's go have a chat, huh?" he said, smirking.

The ride back to the precinct was agonizingly long. Elliot was trying to grasp the reality of what Olivia had said. Pregnant. So many thoughts rushed to his mind. She'd known, and yet, she seemed to be hitting the bottle pretty hard. Worry was just one of the tidal wave of emotions he was feeling right now. He turned to look at her, trying to catch her eyes, but she stared out the window the entire ride. He wished she had told him. He had so many questions. He shook his head, knowing it would be awhile before he would get his answers.

When they returned to the station, Fin joined Elliot in the interrogation room while Olivia began filling out their necessary reports. Elliot was growing more frustrated with every word the suspect uttered, and he was thankful when he finally asked for a lawyer, albeit four hours later. He wearily exited the interrogation room, loosening his tie and exchanging irritated looks with Fin.

"John and I can take it from here, get some rest, you look like hell, man," Fin said, laughing as he slapped Elliot on the back.

"Thanks, nice to know I can always count on you for an ego boost," Elliot joked. He certainly wasn't going to turn down Fin's advice. He headed into Cragen's office to get the okay to take off.

"Cap?" he called, knocking on his office door.

"Come on in, Elliot," Cragen said, motioning to a chair. Elliot waved off the chair.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm headed home, asshole lawyered up, Munch and Fin are going to finish up," he said, backing up to leave.

"Olivia stopped in here a few hours ago, she asked for the week off," Cragen informed him.

Elliot furrowed his brow and folded his arms across his chest.

"Know anything about that?" Cragen questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Let me talk to her," Elliot said, knowing better than to tell Cragen anything at this point.

"She can take the week, Elliot, just make sure she's okay," he said, turning his attention back to his paperwork.

Elliot nodded, the pit in his stomach telling him there was so much more to Olivia's story than she had been able to pass on to him earlier that day. He stood at his desk, lingering for a moment, wondering what to do. He smiled when he saw the bright green Post-It on his computer monitor, Olivia's handwriting scrawled across it.

_You owe me dinner - # 2 please!  
__-Liv  
__(Extra sweet & sour)_

Elliot shook his head, grabbed his coat, and headed out of the station. It was nearly an hour later when he arrived at Olivia's apartment, struggling to hold the entire chicken menu from China One in his uninjured hand. He was quickly losing grip of the plastic bags, and finding himself unable to knock with his broken fingers, he kicked the door gently and called her name.

"It's about time," they both said at once when Olivia opened the door.

They exchanged smiles as Elliot said, "A hand please?"

"Oh, gosh, sorry," she said, grabbing two of the bags from Elliot's grasp. "Come on in," she opened the door wider, allowing Elliot to pass by her.

He dropped his two bags on the coffee table and shrugged his suit jacket off, letting it fall over the back of the couch. Olivia set her bags down, and then retreated to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a couple bottled waters and a beer which she extended to her partner. He accepted it with a smile of gratitude. After struggling with it for a few moments, he passed it back to Olivia to open it. She couldn't refuse his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. She easily opened the bottle and passed it back to Elliot, jokingly muttering insults under her breath.

"You know you love me, Liv," he said, smiling, but he meant it. She began rummaging through the bags, no doubt looking for her extra container of sweet and sour sauce.

"The entire chicken column, right?" she asked, checking with Elliot.

"Of course, nothing less for you," he said, grabbing the first carton his hand landed on. He smiled when he opened it, glad he'd gotten to this one first. Olivia peered over, sniffing in the delicious aroma of his sesame chicken.

"Lucky," she said, finally locating her sauce.

They ate quietly for a few minutes, both too hungry to interrupt with conversation.

"So," Olivia began cautiously, "You're not even the least bit curious?"

Elliot smiled, he knew her so well. That was his cue to reassure her that he was ready to listen. He liked that about her, she appeared so strong, so determined, but when it came to her personal life, things so intimate, she needed assurance that he wanted to listen. She hadn't been able to trust many people in her life, and Elliot knew that. He was honored that she'd trusted him so faithfully in their relationship. He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"I guess I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger, huh?" she said with nervous laughter. He noticed she looked older than her years, her hair was sloppily pulled back in a ponytail off her face. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her body, covering up any exposed skin. Elliot didn't know how to respond, so he took a swig of his beer, hoping she'd begin talking again by the time he swallowed.

"I didn't know what to do, I was so freaked out, you know?" she continued eating her chicken.

"I just sat on it for a couple of weeks, I didn't know how to tell him. And before I even got the chance, he broke up with me. I didn't want to use this baby as a bargaining chip in our relationship. I didn't want to be that girl," she said, staring into the orange sauce that rested precariously on the cushion in front of her.

"Liv, what did he say? That you wouldn't tell me before?" Elliot asked, not knowing whether or not his question would set her off. He peered down at his chicken, growing frustrated with his left hand not being able to grip the fork, he threw it down and began using his fingers.

"He accused me of…of wanting to be with you," she said softly. Elliot felt his cheeks begin to blush. He knew he shouldn't have asked.

"I got pissed, I was so angry at myself for opening up to him, for trusting him with things so personal. I knew there was no way our relationship could survive after he said that, and I realized there was no way I could tell him," she said, maintaining her composure much better than she had during their earlier conversation. He finished off his beer, knowing he was probably going to need a few more to make it through this night.

"I didn't know what to do, El," she looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to comfort her, console her. He placed his take-out carton back on the coffee table and pulled Olivia into him, the same way he'd held his daughter a few nights ago. Olivia rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped both her arms around his left arm, knowing in the back of her mind that this was as close as the two had ever gotten. They'd been partners almost eight years, and aside from the occasional pat on the shoulder or slight brush of the hand, they had an unwritten rule not to get close. But they were in uncharted territory now, and they were both breaking the rules.

Elliot sighed, wanting more than anything to take away the hurt the woman in his arms was feeling. "I know, Liv. It's okay," he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"No, it's not, it's not okay. I didn't know what to do. I mean, I was carrying his child. I barely knew him, I never met his parents or his brothers and sisters. I didn't even know how he took his coffee or liked his eggs. And on top of that, I just, I didn't know what I was passing onto this baby. I mean, my mother was so screwed up, and my father?" Olivia's voice was becoming more agitated, more angry with every word.

"I spent that whole weekend making pro and con lists, making budgets, trying to figure out if I could really do this. And telling Dean wasn't an option, not the way he treated me," Olivia gripped Elliot's arm tighter.

"I couldn't go through with it, Elliot. I couldn't have this baby," she said, finally succumbing to tears. She sobbed into Elliot's chest, and he wrapped his other arm around her, rubbing her back gently. She clung tightly to his shirt, Elliot could sense the desperation in her grasp.

"Shh, it's okay…it's okay," he tried to comfort her but knew none of his words would ease the pain she was feeling. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped, I would've done anything to help you," he assured her.

"What? Tell you I was having an abortion? I couldn't…I didn't want to see the look on your face," she whispered. Elliot realized now that she still wasn't looking at him.

"Why? Because I'm Catholic? We're friends, Olivia, I would have supported your decision, whatever you wanted," he urged.

"I just…I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. I mean, I don't know how you and Kathy managed, you were so young. I'm almost forty, and I don't even know how to change a diaper. I didn't want you to be disappointed," she repeated. Elliot could feel the wetness from her tears seeping through his shirt.

"I wish you would have told me," he held her close and whispered into her ear.

"Why?" she sobbed. "So you could judge me? Tell me I was making the biggest mistake of my life?"

"No! Of course not, Olivia. So I could help you," he could feel the emotion rising in his body, he pulled Olivia closer.

"That's exactly why, Elliot!" she shouted, struggling to release herself from his tight grasp. She stood up and began pacing the length of the living room.

"I knew if I told you, you'd help me. Why do you always have to be so goddamned righteous?" she was practically screaming at him.

Elliot was lost, confused at her outburst.

"I knew if you offered to help, with anything, I wouldn't be able to turn you down," she said, her voice softer now.

"Why? Why don't you want my help? Olivia, we're friends," Elliot stood, grabbing her arms and pulling her close to him again.

"That's just it. You," she said, jabbing him in the chest, "want to be just friends."

**Thanks for all the reviews, the more I get, the faster I want to update. Read, review and enjoy! Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

Elliot let her words sink in. Just friends. Did she want to be _more_ than just friends?

"Liv," he said desperately. "Talk to me."

"I can't be just partners with you, Elliot. I can't be just friends. Dean was right," she said, her huge brown eyes begging for reciprocation from her partner.

"Jesus, Liv," Elliot said, pulling away from her. He turned his back to her, rubbing his forehead. He undid the top button of his collar, it suddenly seemed like he was suffocating. This was Olivia, his partner. He loved her, sure, but not in the way she was talking. He was surprised when he felt her arms wrap around him from behind. He reached down to hold her hands that were clasped together on his stomach. He heard her take a deep breath before she began speaking.

"This is hard for me to say, but I need you to listen," he nodded, his eyes fixed on her carpet. "I want to be the one to wake up next to you in the morning. I want to be the one straightening your tie before you leave for work. I want to make blueberry pancakes for you on Saturday mornings. I want to roll over in the morning and see your face, hug your pillow and breathe in your scent."

He could feel his heart beating quicker. So many thoughts rushed to the surface. The simple truth was that he didn't want a romantic relationship with her. She was beautiful, yes. Smart, witty, strong, incredibly independent. He admired her, but he didn't want to _be_ with her. What if things didn't work out? He'd lose his best friend and his partner. Work would be miserable, and right now, work was the only thing keeping him sane. He needed Olivia to be at his side, needed to be close to her, but not like she wanted. It would ruin everything good in his life.

And he just wasn't ready. His divorce wasn't even final yet. He didn't even know how to date. If he were to start dating again, he didn't even know what type of woman he was interested in. He'd only ever been with Kathy. Things were just too complicated. Elliot gently took Olivia's hands in his, pulling them apart. He walked away from her, his back still turned. He couldn't look her in the eye. Couldn't stand to break her heart.

"El, say something," she pleaded.

He just shook his head. He was stunned, too shocked to form complete thoughts.

"I wish I had the words," he began. He turned to face her, and he could see the hopefulness in her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what else to do.

"Liv, I can't. I care for you, more than I care about myself, but I can't. I just…I can't," he said, walking closer to her. She nodded her head, and Elliot wiped the tears from her face.

"I'm sorry, I never should have said anything. Oh my God, this is so embarrassing," she said, turning away from her partner. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him.

"No, don't be sorry. Please, don't be sorry," he begged of her.

"I don't know what it is, I've just been so out of it lately. With the breakup, the baby, I don't know what's wrong with me," Olivia looked up into Elliot's eyes, and noticed the love he expressed through them.

It slowly started to dawn on her, he didn't need to be with her romantically to love her. What they had was so much more than a partnership, more than a platonic relationship, more than even a romantic relationship. She felt foolish for thinking she needed him physically to be satisfied. She knew she would never find a man who loved her more than Elliot. She was just hoping that her declaration of love didn't ruin what they had.

"Look, I should be the one apologizing, for not trying harder to figure out what was going on," he said.

"Elliot, don't do this to yourself, you tried, I just didn't let you in," Olivia said, retreating to the couch. She sat with her back leaning against the armrest and pulled a tattered quilt over her lap. Elliot sighed and sank onto the opposite end of the couch, his eyes fixed on hers.

"No," he argued. "I haven't been a good partner, not for a long time. Kathy left, and I crumbled, leaving you to pick up the pieces," he knew these words had to be said.

They had never talked, just the two of them, about Kathy leaving Elliot. It frustrated her, how he could talk to Cragen, Rebecca Hendricks, almost anyone except her. She'd given up on him. Just like he'd given up on her. They were both so damn stubborn, they couldn't see that they were shutting each other out. Until tonight, when they simultaneously agreed to let their partner shoulder some of their burden.

"Liv, I haven't even been a good friend. You were there, and I kept pushing you away, but you came back and fought harder for me," he shook his head and smiled to himself at her strong will.

Then he uttered the words he'd been struggling to find all night. The words that defined what their relationship had become.

"I don't deserve you," he turned his eyes away from hers and found himself fidgeting with the splint on his broken fingers.

"Elliot, don't – " Olivia began, but Elliot held up his hand to stop her.

"No, I don't deserve you. Not as a friend, not as a partner. Certainly not in a romantic sense. I haven't treated you right for a long time. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry if anything I've said, or…or anything I've done has hurt you, I'm sorry," his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I'd say we're about even, then," Olivia said, attempting to laugh, but finding it hard as she wiped away the tears that hadn't yet stopped falling.

Elliot smiled. A genuine Elliot Stabler smile. Olivia had missed that, seeing his eyes light up and his forehead crinkle.

"Forgive and forget?" he looked at her expectantly.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Olivia's voice was small, her brown eyes conveying the words she didn't speak. _I don't want to be alone tonight, I'm afraid if you leave now, you won't come back to me. _

Elliot understood and motioned Olivia over to his side of the couch. They burrowed deep into the cushions, Olivia nearly on top of Elliot's body. She rested her head on his chest, he rested his chin on her head, stroking her hair gently. Elliot pulled the quilt over their bodies and listened to her breathe. He felt her tears soaking his shirt, but he didn't care. They needed this more than they had ever realized. They needed each other more than they cared to admit. So, just for tonight, they slept together. Elliot's arms wrapped protectively around Olivia's body. Olivia's head resting on Elliot's heart, where he needed her most.


	10. Chapter 10

Elliot awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He reached his hand out to feel on his nightstand, but instead his hand collided with a Chinese take-out container, the events of last night slowly came flooding back.

"Hmm," he heard Olivia grumble, and he realized she was still curled up next to him.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, reaching into his pocket, his sole purpose to stop the annoying ring.

"Stabler," he finally managed as he fumbled with the phone.

"Where the hell are you at, man? Daddy's mad," he heard Fin's voice on the other end.

Elliot covered the mouthpiece and tried to pry himself out of Olivia's grasp.

"Shit! Liv, get up," he urged.

"Fin, I'm on my way," he said, slamming his phone shut.

"Damn it, Liv, I'm late. Seriously, get off me," he said, clumsily trying to stand up. His eyes were blurry from his contacts and his neck was cocked to the side. He continued to mumble obscenities under his breath as he tried to work the kink out his neck.

"Jump in the shower. I have your suit from the dry cleaners in my closet," Olivia mumbled, her face buried in the couch cushions.

For once, Elliot was actually glad he had picked Olivia up from one of her late night pity parties. She'd gotten sick in his car on the drive home one night. While Elliot's suit jacket had been draped over her shoulders. She'd apologized profusely, and, thankfully, had gotten his suit clean in a timely fashion.

Elliot showered and dressed in record time and when he emerged from the bathroom, Olivia was waiting for him with a travel mug of coffee.

"I'm so sorry," she said, sleep still in her eyes, her hair matted to her cheek. She set her own mug down and quickly tied his tie.

"Thanks. We'll talk later, I swear. But I gotta run," he said, grabbing the mug and squeezing her hand. She smiled, and he was grateful that things weren't too weird. Or maybe things were weird, and he was just in too much of a hurry to notice.

"El, what's wrong with your neck?" she asked as she ushered him out the door.

"You have the most uncomfortable couch in the five boroughs, you know that?" he called as he ran down the hall to the elevator.

Elliot quietly slipped into the squad room, hoping his late entrance would go unnoticed. He sat silently at his desk, removed his glasses, and squirted eye drops into his burning eyes.

"Stabler. My office. Now," Cragen hollered from his desk. Elliot groaned and stood up.

"Ten bucks says Stabler gets desk duty for being tardy," Fin said slyly.

"Twenty says he gets written up," Munch raised the stakes.

Elliot couldn't help but smile at his friends.

"You boys underestimate me," he smiled wickedly as he reluctantly headed for Cragen's office.

"Thirty says Elliot tells some sob story and they come out old pals," Fin countered.

Munch reached across the desk and shook his partner's hand.

"You got yourself a bet," Munch said peering over the top of his glasses.

Elliot closed the door behind him, he knew he was in for it this time. He wiped away the stray tears that were running down his cheeks and slid his glasses back over his eyes.

"You okay?" Cragen's voice full of concern.

Elliot laughed, knowing he looked like a wreck. Especially with his stiff neck and his head permanently cocked to the left.

"Munch kicked me and stole my lunch money again," Elliot smiled, hoping his attempt at humor would make the Captain go easy on him.

"Yeah, well, it's the scrawny, scrappy kids that'll get you every time," Cragen said, shaking his head. The two men looked at each other, knowing the real reason Elliot was sitting in Cragen's office.

"That's the second day in a row, Elliot. Wanna tell me what's going on?" Cragen's tone was even, but Elliot could tell he was struggling not to sound angry.

Elliot knew he couldn't lie anymore. Cragen was smart, Elliot knew he was catching on. He reached up to massage his neck. That damn couch.

"I was at Olivia's," he admitting, so quiet that Cragen had to strain to hear his voice.

"Elliot, now would be a good time to start explaining," Cragen said, leaning back into his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

Elliot chose his words carefully.

"She's had…a real rough go of it lately, Cap," he spoke slowly. "Someone she trusted let her down, she's been hitting the bar pretty regularly the past few weeks."

Elliot sat quietly, staring at his foot nervously tapping the wood floor boards.

"There's more to it," Cragen said, implying Elliot should continue.

"She called me. Every night to come pick her up. I'd drag her home in the middle of the night. I, uh, crashed here a lot. The drive to Queens is too far at two in the morning," Elliot said, his gaze meeting Cragen's.

He was surprised to see the warmth and compassion in his eyes. He could be tough, hard-nosed. But Elliot forgot he cared about all of his detectives like they were his own family. He should have come to him earlier. Maybe he could have helped Olivia out of her downward spiral.

"You should have told me Elliot," a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Cap, it wasn't my place," Elliot said, knowing that Cragen wouldn't push him.

"She's lucky to have you, Elliot. I'm glad she can talk to you. But see if you can get her to talk to me. I need to know if she's gonna be okay," Cragen said, standing from his chair. He walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it, his arms still crossed.

"Now, you gonna tell me what really happened to your hand?" Cragen raised his eyebrows at Elliot.

"That's between me and my bathroom mirror," Elliot said with a smirk on his face. Cragen just shook his head. "What about your neck?"

"That's between me and Olivia's couch. Which, by the way, is made of concrete," Elliot said smiling as he headed toward the door.

Elliot paused with his hand on the door knob. A wicked grin crossed his face.

"Hey, Cap? Got lunch plans?" he asked, turning around to face Cragen.

"You buying?"

"John stole my lunch money, remember?" Elliot snickered. "But what if I told you I knew how we could get it back?"

"Pay up, man," Fin said as he saw Cragen and Elliot walk out of the Captain's office together, Cragen's arm around Elliot, talking quietly so the other detectives couldn't hear.

"I know, Cap, I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Elliot mumbled apologetically.

"Damn it, Fin," Munch said, pulling out his wallet and removing two twenties.

But Fin wasn't fast enough. Cragen swooped in and nabbed the bills from John's hands.

"What's for lunch today, boys?" he asked, taunting his detectives.

**Read, review and enjoy! Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

Elliot drove home that night, lost in his thoughts. He had tried to call Olivia on her cell phone twice, but it went straight to voice mail. After trying her apartment phone and getting the machine there twice, he was beginning to worry. Needless to say, he was relieved when walked into his own home and saw his answering machine blinking. He hit the play button, relieved to hear her voice.

"El, it's me." She said, exhaling loudly. "I'm sorry about last night…I talked to Huang today… God, I can see your face right now, but it wasn't so bad. He told me I should take this week off, take time to think about everything, grieve."

Grieve. That word never crossed Elliot's mind. He never thought she'd need to mourn. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing how truly difficult this must be for his partner. He was lost in thought for a moment, but the sound of her voice brought him out of his trance.

"…out of town for a few days. Don't worry about me, please. I just need time. We'll talk when I get back Monday, I promise. Or at least I'll talk, you can sit across from me and be brooding and intense, whatever you want." He smiled, she knew him so well. "Bye, Elliot."

The rest of the week went by almost too quickly. Olivia occasionally crossed his mind when he was finishing her paperwork or when John and Fin argued and he missed having his partner there to share eye rolls and sarcastic comments.

On Monday morning Elliot made sure to arrive at the station early. No more snide comments from Olivia about rush hour traffic. He was, in fact, so early that he was the first to arrive, even beating Cragen. He busied himself with paperwork, wondering to himself how Olivia's week went. This was the longest he'd gone without talking to her since becoming partners. He realized, sitting as his desk alone, he missed her. All week, he'd been so busy, he'd barely had time to notice she was gone. But now, sitting here, in anticipation of her arrival, he missed her. Longed to see her smile. Hear her voice.

Elliot nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard Cragen's voice, he was so lost in his own thoughts.

"You took our talk about being late serious, didn't you, Stabler? That's good, that's real good," he said, patting him on the back and heading into his office. Elliot laughed and shook his head.

"What's so funny, Stabler?" her voice came from behind.

"I'm early," he said, grinning and awaiting her praise. She leaned against his desk, stared down at him.

"Well, congratulations are in order," she smiled.

Elliot noticed how refreshed she looked. Her week away from the precinct really did her some good. The dark circles were gone, her brown eyes had a little of the familiar sparkle back. And her smile was back.

"You look good, Liv," Elliot said sincerely.

"And you're still going bald," she shot back.

"And to think I missed you," he shook his head in disbelief as he stood up, now towering over her. "Is it…inappropriate, given our current situation, to give you a great big hug?" he asked, looking down into her eyes, a hint of laughter in them.

"Just make it quick," she joked.

He wrapped his strong arms around her, held her close for a few moments. He planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"You scared me," he whispered into her hair.

"I know," she said.

"Olivia, a minute please?" Cragen called from his office, Elliot pulling out of their embrace.

"I'll grab us coffee while you're in there," Elliot winked at her as he headed for the door. "Good luck!" he called over his shoulder.

He returned twenty minutes and two large coffees later.

"The entire chicken column, which we barely touched, by the way, and now coffee. I owe you big time," Olivia said as Elliot placed the coffee on her desk. "Can I buy you lunch?"

"Make it two lunches and a breakfast and we'll call it even," he said sipping from his own cup.

He wanted to ask her what she'd talked to Cragen about, but decided he'd wait for lunch, when the two of them would hopefully be alone.

"Just so you know, I'm ordering lobster," Elliot said as he slid into the booth at his number two restaurant a few hours later.

Olivia started laughing as she slid in next to him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, still laughing. "It's just that, when I left last week, I just got in my car and drove. I wound up in Maine, all the lobster you can eat up there," she said, laughing so hard so hard her eyes were beginning to water.

"You went to Maine?" he asked incredulously.

"I know, can you believe it?" she asked, her laughter subsiding. "I just wound up there, staying at this little inn on a lake. It was so quiet, peaceful. You can actually smell the grass and the rain there. I thought…a lot. About everything. And I slept. God, I had forgotten how great a full night's sleep could be," she said, a hint of happiness in her tone.

Elliot smiled at the changed woman in front of him.

"I'm glad you managed to make it back," he said, lifting his water glass in a toast.

The waitress came and took their orders, and they sat in silence afterwards, just taking in one another.

"Glasses look good on you," she teased.

Elliot just shook his head, embarrassed at himself.

"What? I just haven't seen you wear them for awhile," she said in defense.

"That morning you threw me out of your apartment," he said, a childish grin on his face, "my contacts were hurting so I took them out and, uh, threw them out my car window."

He paused and watched her stifle her laughter.

"It's not funny! They were my last pair, my new ones don't come in until next week," he said, turning away from her, waiting for the teasing to subside.

"So much rage pent up inside of you, taking it out on your poor contacts," she said, faking a sad puppy dog face.

"What'd Cragen have to say?" Elliot changed the subject.

"Go easy on the sauce," she forced a smiled up at Elliot.

He knew what she wanted to say. He knew she wanted to apologize for the drinking, for calling him. For everything. And he knew it was going to be hard for her. From the look in her eyes he could tell she was truly sorry.

"El," she began, but Elliot raised his hand, cutting her off.

"Don't," he said in a serious tone. "It's okay, I swear. I did it because you're my best friend, and if it was me, you'd have done the same thing."

Olivia blinked hard, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

"You're gonna make me cry, Stabler," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Elliot knew his next question would be tough, but he thought he deserved an honest answer. He didn't want to hurt his partner, or see her break down emotionally in front of him in a crowded restaurant, but he thought he deserved this. Channeling Kathy's advice, he knew he had to ask.

"Why me?" he asked, his blue eyes piercing her watery brown ones. "Why call me? Why not John or Fin or Casey once in a while? Why always me?"

There was an awkward silence as the waitress sat the plates down in front of the detectives. Olivia mindlessly picked at her fries, avoiding Elliot's question. He wasn't going to push her, but he did want an answer. Just as he opened his mouth to prompt her, she spoke. Softly, Elliot had to strain to listen.

"I was waiting for you to let me down," she said, avoiding his gaze. "I trust you, more than I've ever trusted anyone else. And I messed up. And I was waiting for you to give up on me, like everyone else I've ever cared about."

Olivia raised her napkin to dab the tears from her eyes. She finally looked into Elliot's, noticing that they weren't judgmental, or for once, full of anger or rage. They were blue as ever, full of compassion and love. She shook her head, angry at herself for even thinking that the man in front of her would ever give up on her.

"But you're so goddamned stubborn!" she laughed through her tears.

Her gaze returned to the burger and fries in front of her. Elliot reached across the table and gently lifted her chin so their eyes met.

"You know better than that, Liv. You can trust me," he said, searching her eyes for any sign of understanding. But all he saw was her unwavering strength and love for the man in front of her.

"I know," she smiled at him. A genuine, sincere smile. "Thank you."

Elliot gently wiped a tear that was dangerously close to sliding off her chin and smiled at her. Before she knew it, he had reached down and nabbed her pickle spear off her plate.

"All that so you could eat my pickle?" she laughed, wiping the remaining tears and blowing her nose in her napkin.

"Hey, a man's gotta eat," he grinned at her.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, exchanging grins every couple of bites, glad to know that things were slowly getting back to normal between them.

"So you're done with the drinking?" Elliot asked after he polished off the last bite of his sandwich.

Olivia thought for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, I'm done," she finally answered.

"Good. But if you trust me so much, why not come to me before it became such a problem?" he asked.

"The day after…you know, I realized that this was all actually happening. It's like I woke up from a terrible dream, but it wasn't a dream. It was real, and I hated the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. The feeling that told me I had made a mistake. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't make it go away. And the drinking…" she trailed off, and Elliot noticed her eyes drift out the window, to the strangers on the sidewalk, enjoying the sunny afternoon.

"Anger, regret, confusion, I was feeling so much. And sometimes, you don't want to feel," she finished, her gaze turning back to her partner.

Elliot nodded. He finally understood. She reached across the table and ran her thumb over Elliot's fading bruises on his right hand.

"What really happened here?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Elliot noticed she was quick to change the subject, but he didn't mind. She'd said what she needed to say, and Elliot had gotten all the answers she was going to give. For now, anyway.

"I had a fight with my bathroom mirror," he said, laughing at himself now.

"Yeah, they've been known to talk back. Poor mirror never stood a chance," Olivia joined in on his laughter.

It was good to hear her laugh again. A whole-hearted laugh. He'd missed that the past month. Elliot allowed Olivia to pay their bill and the two stepped outside, squinting in the sunlight.

"I still can't believe you went to Maine," Elliot muttered as they started down the sidewalk. "And you didn't even bring me a lobster. Or taffy," he pouted.

Olivia slapped his arm playfully and teased, "But you still love me, Stabler."

"Yeah, but you're still not getting in my pants."

* * *

**So there it is, the final chapter. Not OE romantic, but at least they're on good friendship terms. Thanks for all the great reviews. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!**


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